Farewell to a Friend
by samanddianefan10
Summary: The reactions of everyone in the surgical room immediately after recieving the news of Henry Blake's death. Re-edited with Radar's POV.


Contains spoilers for "Cowboy".

Hawkeye looked at Trapper, waiting for him to say something, anything. This couldn't be real. A minute ago they had been informed that their good friend and colleague Henry Blake had been killed. He'd been on his way to Bloomington, Illinois, only to have his plane shot down over the Sea of Japan. He never stood a chance. And now they were left to deal with the aftermath of a tragedy that should never have happened.

Radar was in shock, he couldn't believe the loss of his friend. The words came out of his mouth but he couldn't believe what he had to say. Nothing he'd been through prepared him for this moment. Looking around at his comrades was impossible, for he could barely handle his own grief. All he wanted to do was run out of the O.R. as fast as his feet could take him. The man who he loved like a father had perished and there was nothing he could do. His friend was gone, and Radar just wanted to go home. Henry was a man whom Radar loved like a father and was also a good friend. This man had taught him many things about life and could never be replaced. In a million years Radar would never be able to make sense of this tragedy.

"Retractor." Hawkeye called out to the nurse, who repeated his request.

"Scalpel."

"Scalpel." The nurse obediently repeated.

This routine went on for another hour. Everyone went about their business while processing the news. Trapper would look over at Hawkeye, who avoided everyone's gazes. Margaret kept close to Frank , who kept quiet. Frank repeatedly looked to his girlfriend for advice on how to handle this tragic situation. She was at a loss for words. All she knew to do was dry her tears and carry on to the best of her ability. Determined not to let this interfere with her job, she was nonetheless devastated by the loss of her commander. They were not close but he was part of her daily life and she was not so callous that she would wish this kind of tragedy on anyone. If she could do things over again, she would still carry on business on usual but perhaps she would have taken a little more time to get to know him better. She might have had a drink or two with him. Now all she would have would be the memories of going over his head over his inept leadership skills with the camp. Inept, but he did have a way with the men that she may have underestimated. Margaret couldn't help but think of his children. She knew that Henry had little ones who were waiting patiently for their father, and they would be devastated when they would learn of the news. She herself hadn't lost her parents and couldn't imagine the pain of losing a loved one, especially at such a young age. It wasn't fair. A child shouldn't have to learn of the harsh reality of war. They were so innocent and knew nothing of wars and the lessons of good and evil. And Lorraine, poor Lorraine. To be a widow at such a young age, well, Margaret couldn't imagine being put in such a position. Lorraine was so young and deserved a lifetime of happiness with her family and to have that taken from her, well that was just cruel. And on the day her husband was coming home of all days! It was a shame, a crying shame, and she felt sick to her stomach. Henry was many things, not all of them good, but mostly he was a good man and he had deserved a long life with his family and now he would never get to see his family again. War was hell.

Father Mulcahy grew quiet and weary. It was going to take all of his strength to get through the next week. He wasn't prepared for this death, and it had hit him hard. All eyes had turned to him, and he knew they would be on him for some time to come. He could only pray for the strength and wisdom and courage to find the right words to say to the members of the 4077. His own pain would have to wait. This was a most difficult task being asked of him and he had to be ready to answer the call. There were no easy answers for the questions that were surely going to be asked of him. Why did this have to happen to Henry Blake? That was a question he himself wanted to know, but it was no time for personal self-seeking revelations. The good of the many came first. Such is the life for the man of the cloth. He must be ready immediately to help those in pain, and there was no doubt that there would be many in need of his services. This was a dark day indeed. His own anger at God would just have to wait.

Klinger watched Trapper and Hawkeye continue to work and he didn't say anything. This just made him resolve to try harder to get out. There was no way he would wind up like Colonel Blake, rest his soul. He had too much to lose. His family needed him too much. He could only imagine what his family would be feeling if they were to get the letter that Colonel Blake's family would be getting. His poor mother's heart wouldn't be able to take it. And then there was Toledo. Toledo really seemed a million miles away. They say home is where the heart is, and he'd never heard a truer expression in his life. Suddenly it seemed as if he'd forgotten what baklava smelled like, what Packo's tasted like. Would he ever go home? Would he make it there in one piece? His section 8 schemes didn't seem so crazy after all.

Frank looked over at the teary-eyed Margaret and it nearly broke his heart. He knew that he couldn't afford to wax poetic about the late Colonel but he couldn't help but think about what his death meant. He was in charge! Oh, sure, he should feel bad for thinking of that so quickly but he couldn't help himself. A commander had so many responsibilities. This was his chance to prove himself. Where Colonel Blake had failed in many areas, he would succeed. He would bring order to the camp. The men and women would respect him. No more mumbo jumbo, especially from those two nimrods. Now he could really show who's in charge. He would have to put his foot down about a lot of things. The first thing he would do will be to get rid of that awful distillery in his tent. Colonel Blake may have tolerated that tomfoolery but he wasn't about to. Colonel Blake- the camp wasn't going to be the same without him. May he rest in peace.

Trapper just wanted to finish up the patient he was working on and get back to the tent. His buddy was gone and there was nothing he could do about it. He felt sick, as if he'd been sucker-punched. He'd spent so many days and nights with Henry, sharing drinks and laughs. There were very few people around these parts that he considered friends, and Henry was one of them. Henry, crazy Henry.. Whether it was getting plastered and slurring his words or attatching his finger to a lure in his hat, Henry always could be counted on for a wasn't always a man of words. There was the time the latrine blew up with him in it. He simply said " Boom." It wasn't so much what he said but the way he said it. They shared many good times. He'd been so happy for his friend when he'd gotten his points. It was hard to believe he was gone.

No one was more devastated than Hawkeye at the loss of Henry Blake. He was like an older brother to him, one which he'd never had. He was comical, true, but he also knew how to be supportive and serious when he needed to. Henry was there for him when he suffered the loss of his friend Tommy Gills, and offered him some sound advice. Hawkeye couldn't imagine what this war would have been like without his commander. Under any other colonel, it might have been completely unbearable. With Henry, he knew how far to push and what he could get away with (a lot). They had some good times and good laughs, which he couldn't imagine sharing with any other commander, especially not Frank Burns. At one point he would have gone to any length to keep Henry, including faking Radar's illness. There was no one he'd rather have lead the 4077. Now Hawkeye was without his comrade, and he didn't know what he would do. His friend was gone and he couldn't do a thing to save him. He was lost forever, banished in a watery grave. The thought of his friend dying like that would forever torture him.

Henry didn't want to die. There was so much he wanted to do. He wanted to kiss his wife like there was no tomorrow. She was the greatest cook in the world, not to mention lover. He longed to play baseball with his son and watch his girls play dress-up. There were barbeques to be had. All he could think about on the plane home was how happy he finally was. He had perspective. He wouldn't mind the chores, and he wouldn't mind the nagging if he forgot to do his share around the house. He liked to think he wouldn't forget anything but he knew himself. He would like to think that he'd be the perfect husband but Lorraine would probably have a few things to say about that. How he got so lucky he'd never know. All he knew is he just wanted to get back and have a normal life. Say hello to the neighbors. Pay the bills. Go out to eat now and then. Maybe have another kid. And now he would never get the chance. All because of a blasted police action.


End file.
